


A Third Butterfly

by orphan_account



Category: Cinderella 2015
Genre: Baby, F/M, Love, papillon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 08:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4013122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a blessed summer day, when the sun was smiling and the birds were singing, the Mystery Princess and the Apprentice Monarch had escaped from their duties for an arranged time of a week, and they had begun to settle down as the afternoon grew old.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Third Butterfly

Ella's old home had become a well needed get away for the royal pair, frequently used in the hectics months surrounding their marriage when it seemed like half the court was on hand, ready to pull them apart, every second they were alone together. When they weren't there they longed to be, the very place promising summer nights spent lying in the grass outside, hiding from the servants in the less used and decidedly cramped rooms that were once to be Ella's haunts and lazy days spent entirely in bed, wrapped in each others arms. Sometimes, Ella felt the uncanny feeling that someone was watching over them, guarding the pair as they laughed and talked and had concluded long ago that it was her Fairy Godmother. It was, occasionally, but when the old family estate was concerned the guardians were often her parents, though she knew it not. 

When, after months of keenly felt absence, their precious Ella and her handsome husband had returned to the place of her childhood with a chubby baby boy in arms, her parents had been overjoyed as they silently looked on, watching every move their grandchild made. They watched every little blunder and fall, every giggle and cry the young thing ever made in that house, surrounded by the love family could provide. The young rulers could not always excuse themselves from their obligations to court and country, and if someone was to appear sometimes it was only Ella and the latest edition that was, apparently, named Christopher (after his father). When the whole family, however, was gathered beneath the same sky and same roof, the unexplainable sense of contentment could not be missed. 

The grandparents were, once again, overjoyed when a second - and unexpected - grandchild was revealed, and were pleased to see how beautiful the smiles were at the pure happiness all received. This one was a girl, a little princess with her fathers blue eyes and dark hair (that would eventually lighten into her ash blonde) and her mothers nose, mouth and chin. With such genetics, how could this new one be anything but fair of face? Time passed, and the girl grew and grew (her namesake, Fairy Godmother Leanore, adding her watchful gaze more than usual) until she was walking and talking and playing with her brother in the animal filled garden behind the house or the unkept fields that surrounded the manse. 

On a blessed summer day, when the sun was smiling and the birds were singing, the Mystery Princess and the Apprentice Monarch had escaped from their duties for an arranged time of a week, and they had begun to settle down as the afternoon grew old. Lying languidly amidst the grass, now garbed in a summer day dress that was starkly different from the lavish courtly gowns, Ella gently allowed her senses to lose touch with the world with the noise of her children's laughter fresh in her ears. Kit sat with his wife's head in his lap, his primary attention on the two dark haired siblings that were running about the field, squeals of laughter on their lips. Half mindful of what he was doing, the King twisted his wife's lose hair into small knots and braids. He loved her hair, from the sheen it gave off in the candle light and how soft it was when he ran his hands through it.

"I saw the physician the other day." Ella began casually, stopping herself from being lulled into slumber. 

"For the headaches?" Her husband suggested, his brow creasing at the memory of the migraines that had plagued his wife through out last week. Ella could not help but feel even more loved as she watched his eyebrows furrow into one of the wonderful expressions that made Kit. 

"For the headaches." She agreed, her eyes drifting to her two gems. 

"Well?" The only thing Ella disliked about her husband, if you could call it dislike (it was more a point of worry), was the constant concern he had for her. His Majesty was a worrier, and had been from a young age. Yes, he did reckless things and nothing was better than a spontaneous burst of activity that increased his laughter, but Kit would always have a care for his wife and children, fearing the absolute worse might happen at any moment. It had been Kit that had insisted she eat more, in the first weeks of her stay at the palace, when her frame was cruelly slim. Kit had been the one who begged her to take up more of the blankets, or at least inform him he was being selfish (which he never was), in the first few months of their marriage. Her loving husband, who had ordered her - the very first order he had ever issued her, and the last - to remain off her feet when she was nearing term with Christopher. She never liked telling him if she was ill, knowing that even if it was just a trifle, Kit would insist she see the physician. Ella had tried to hide the obvious pain she was in when first the headaches had come, but she was incredibly unsuccessful. 

"We found the heart of it." She assured him, smiling at his anxiety. She hoped that smile would ease his doubts, she wasn't even sure she should have brought it up. Heavens knew what Kit might do when she told him, and with their children so close it was not a recommended thing. It had just been so peaceful and perfect, lying care free beside her love with their children playing in sight. 

"Ella..." Kit didn't care for his wife's vagueness. He knew she wanted to avoid him worrying, but it only made him jumpy. 

"It's not a very uncommon occurrence." The Queen responded. "Expected, really." 

"Expected of what, Ella?" Now her husbands hands were holding her, and a pained look made his face appear so much younger. Ella almost hated herself for drawing out that look from her beloved. "Ella, what are you saying?"

"I'm carrying a child." She confessed, and the relief on her husbands face was all that mattered as it turned to adoration and joy. His lips barely brushed hers before two pairs of feet came trampling the soft grass, a gaggle of laughs and shouts as they arrived before their parents. 

"Mama, butterfly!" Aenor told her mother, extending his hand to show an intact, if somewhat disheveled, purple butterfly resting delicately on his palm, his wings beating softly. Pride was beaming from the little three year olds face as she smiled, and Ella almost teared up at the possibility of another beautiful creature alike to the two before her growing within. 

"I found it first." Christopher clarified, harrumphing as he took a seat on the grass beside his father. 

"In french." Ella guided her little daughter as the insect took flight and fluttered away in the slight breeze, swinging her into her lap with a gentle sigh. "That is a papillon."


End file.
